Marlene Black
by sarahslushie711
Summary: He stays on the sofa long after they leave, eyes trained to another article on the Wolfsbane, his flat echoing silence and the memory of two dissimilar witches cheering for West Ham in this very room. And he decides that Edson Pucey couldn't be more wrong. Same one-shot situation. R&R.


**Disclaimer: I really own nothing beyond the perception of the characters and the situations they are put in. And even most of that isn't mine.**

**Marlene Black**

Marlene settles beside him on the sofa, legs dangling and fingers clenched. She glances curiously at the telly, takes in the flyby images on the screen. Manchester blocks, Remus smiles wryly, and Marlene lets out a puff of frustration when the shouting fails to provide her with any answers.

"The ball, Marlene," he explains patiently, and smooth's her sleep tussled locks with the hand not pointing at the ball being passed between West Ham before it's intercepted. "You want the football in the goal."

"Ball?" she tries, her sparkling eyes wrinkling in confusion. It comes out more of a 'bahw' than a 'ball,' but it's more than he expected. She watches as West Ham pulls a clean shot despite their rival team's competence, and blinks as the crowd cheers and Remus chuckles. She grins, pearly teeth gleaming as she claps, open-handed and staccato, bouncing up and down. "Bahw, Rem-rem, bahw!"

She's much like this the rest of the game, giggling and shouting every time the crowd is in uproar. It's clear she hasn't a clue what the ball actually is, just points at random and shrieks 'bahw' when she finds it appropriate. At one point she calls the referee a "meanie bahw, Rem-rem," when he pulls a red card on a particularly indomitable West Ham player. At the very least, he determines, she seems to grasp the object of the match itself, even has a team to support.

Marlene Black is a West Ham advocate, and Ramus Lupin isn't quite sure what to make of it.

"Edon, Edon, bahw in go!" she trills when Edson comes to pick her up. She's on the small wooden table, chubby feet stamping as she jumps up and down in excitement. Ironically, West ham makes one final goal and the room fills with cheers, fireworks playing bright, fast pictures on the telly. "Rem say bahw in go! Yay!"

It's actually an endearing sight, the one year olds joy contagious. Pucey isn't nearly as pleased, though.

"What the bloody hell? Is there a _reason_ Mars is going nutters over this muggle rubbish instead of _Quidditch_?"

"She's partial to more life endangering sport," like her father, Remus smirks. "I'm sure if you swallowed your quaffle and introduced her to a bludger, she would be much more receptive."

The Slytherin stares at him, knowing and tall, before turning to a giggling Marlene. "Come along, love, Mum's got dinner for you and Adrian's made you a drawing in school."

"Bahw go, Edon," she tells him cheerfully and accepts his hand as she climbs down.

"Lupin, this may be difficult for your wildly over exaggerated intellect to grasp, but that little girl is _not_ Marlene McKinnon," Pucey hisses after she's collected her shoes and paints, waiting by the floo.

Remus tries not to growl as he lifts up the silver pot Hestia Jones had gifted him after graduation and raises a brow at the other wizard. "Less difficult than the fact that she's not actually your daughter, I would imagine."

Pucey clenches his jaw, pulls Marlene close and grabs a handful of the silky green sand. "Where it matters, I am."

And as if she understands the magnitude of this conversation, the importance of the words being uttered, the little girl turns astonishingly serious grey eyes in his direction before she's engulfed in emerald flames. "Bye-bye, Rem. I wuv you."

He stays on the sofa long after they leave, eyes trained to another article on the Wolfsbane, his flat echoing silence and the memory of two dissimilar witches cheering for West Ham in this very room. And he decides that Edson Pucey couldn't be more wrong.

Marlene Black is no McKinnon, no Pucey either, and only shades of Pertineli. She has the famed Pertineli mind, certainly, the Pertineli nose too, but the rest is mostly Black. Beyond the sanity and acute awareness her mother managed to pass on, her father peeks through in the mischief and curiosity she's constantly portraying, the way she laughs so fully and her grey eyes twinkle with challenges only fit for the night sky. As for the McKinnon bit, that is entirely unnecessary when she's so much like Sirius. The similarities are endless. From the tough determination, dark fringe and large eyes, to the way she'll snort in frustration and dances to her own beat.

Remus would know, glorified babysitter he has become lately. Not that he can complain, as it's not too difficult, pays well, and gives him constant company. Times like these found work sparse for him anyhow, and though Nicki had more tact than to outright state it, Remus knows it's her attempt at helping. Pucey has maybe six house-elf's on Marlene alone as it is. It isn't a task for them to scrounge up a decent nanny for the little dare-devil.

His eyes refocus on the diminutive lettering in his magazine and he smiles ruefully at the realization that he may not mind spending his every day with Marlene. The full moons are a challenge, yes, but having Pucey blow gaskets in his living room every few days is hardly something to pass up.

Next time, Remus decides, he's buying her a football.


End file.
